


Winter in Me

by foggynite



Category: Fruits Basket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-15
Updated: 2004-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggynite/pseuds/foggynite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hatori+Shigure.  Classic comfort fic.  Shigure has the sniffles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter in Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kittyling

 

 

Balancing the phone on his shoulder, Hatori sat at his desk finishing paperwork while his caller wailed on the other end of the line.

"But, Ha-kun, I'm _dying_! My nose is swelled to elephant proportions, my throat sounds like a frog died in it, and--Oh! Oh Lord, I'm feeling faint! So faint! I'm just fading away here, all alone, no one to comfort me in my last moments--"

"You're not dying, Shigure." Hatori said drolly as he turned to the next page. "You just have a cold. Take some tylenol."

"But I don't have any tylenol, Ha-kun, and I'm all alone!" The last was a mournful howl. "Everyone ::sniffle:: went to the hot springs without me, and it's snowing out, and I have no marshmallows for my hot chocolate... My fever's so high I'm about to go roll in the snow! I'm wasting away! Everything's getting darker, I think I'm losing my vision--"

Calmly placing his pen on the desk, Hatori pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten with his eyes closed tightly. Ignoring the dog's sniveling had not worked, as Shigure kept calling back every five minutes sounding even more pathetic, and calm logic only fueled his excitable cousin's flare for the dramatic. That Hatori was being manipulated was obvious to the meanest of intellects. Unfortunately, knowing that he was and being able to avoid it were two things he had been unable to reconcile in all the years he had known Shigure.

The sniffling became even more pronounced on the other end.

With a sigh, Hatori interrupted the ongoing histrionics in a flat voice, "I have to make a few stops first. Try not to die before I get there."

"Oh yay!" The girly squeal made Hatori sigh wearily again, but a slight grin crept across his face.

* * *

He expected to find Shigure comfortably sprawled in front of the television with a box of bon-bons, and braced himself for the opening sally of his cousin's verbal warfare when he entered through the front door. He was not expecting to find the dog absent from the living room.

Slipping off his shoes and placing his medical bag on the foyer table, he wandered through the lower level rooms, heading towards the next likely place. The study was freezing when he slid the door open to find Shigure sitting in his usual writing spot, upper body sprawled across the table with his chin resting on top of his crossed arms. The caustic greeting died on Hatori's tongue when he took in Shigure's forlorn expression. The usually vibrant novelist was staring out the open doors from under his thick bangs, dressed only in his house kimono with a light sheen of sweat coating his skin. Hatori quickly changed his own expression to one of disapproval.

"If you're so ill, I really don't think sitting in the freezing cold will help things."

Shigure jumped at the sound of his voice, smiling widely, if a bit forced, while he waved off Hatori's concern. "Ne, Ha-chan, just enjoying the weather. The house seems so stuffy lately."

Without responding, Hatori went to the shoji doors, sliding them shut. "When did you last take your temperature?"

"Eh. Not sure." Shigure snuffled, sitting up. "I feel like death warmed over."

Getting a whiff of his cousin as he came closer, Hatori dead-panned. "You _smell_ like death warmed over."

Shrugging, the dog swayed to his feet and staggered towards the door. Not one to be solicitous, Hatori merely followed at a distance that would allow him to catch the other man should he fall. Shigure's haphazard path led to the television room, but Hatori caught him by the elbow and led him on to the bathroom before he could sit down.

"Hey, I'm missing my soaps!" Shigure tried to wail, but ended up coughing out the semi-joke instead. Hatori rolled his eyes.

"I brought something for the fever and cough," he said perfunctorily as he settled Shigure on a bench with one hand and yanked on the bath faucet with the other. "It should help you sleep. For now, why don't you take a soak?"

Shigure had an odd half-smile on his face. He waved a hand listlessly. "You're drawing me a bath."

"Very astute."

"And that wasn't as sarcastic as it could have been."

"I'll try harder."

Face brightening, Shigure pointed a wobbly finger at him as the doctor tried to help him out of his robes. "You're being _nice_ to me, Ha-kun! I knew it! I knew you cared!"

Snorting, Hatori effectively dumped him into the steaming water, while managing to keep himself dry. Shigure seemed to melt into the water, draping his arms over the edge of the tub as his eyes drifted shut. Picking up the other's dirty clothes with a frown, Hatori neatly dropped them into the bathroom hamper and turned to the doorway.

"You're delirious. Try not to drown while I'm gone."

An incoherent mumble was all Shigure managed. Hatori had the feeling that his cousin really was ill, even if it was just a common cold, all histrionics aside. Rubbing his tired eyes, he returned to his medical bag in the hall, withdrawing some simple over-the-counter remedies and Gatorade. The kitchen was his next stop as he easily found a glass for the drink. He was still amazed at how Tohru had transformed the wasteland the kitchen used to be.

Quietly leaving the medicine and glass on the bathroom vanity, he took a moment to study Shigure's exhausted form. Perhaps he had been too distant lately, if his friend was worn down to this, but his position as the Sohma family physician was a constantly demanding one and Shigure knew it.

But he couldn't help watching a bead of sweat slowly make its way down Shigure's neck, following the line of his throat, and wish that things could be different. That their lives could be simple for once. Nothing in the Sohma family ever was.

With a sigh, he left the bathroom again. This time, he went to Shigure's bedroom and paused on the threshold. It had been months since his last visit here, when the children had gone to the hot springs before, and the memories of that weekend had sustained him through many nights since.

He shook off his unwelcome reflections with a decisive nod, and quickly retrieved Shigure's favorite lounging kimono from the wardrobe. The other man was dozing when he returned, his light sleep marked by small coughs.

"Shigure." Hatori gently tapped his elbow. The dog didn't respond, so Hatori frowned and shook his arm harder. "Shi-kun. You need to get up."

"Uh-- Whu--?" Shigure blinked sleepily, then grinned the grin of the ill. "'m fine. G'way."

"Right. Up we go."

This time he did get his suit wet as he helped Shigure from the tub, wrapping the dripping other man in a robe before grabbing a towel. Seating Shigure on the bench, Hatori started scrubbing briskly at the floppy hair, trying to ignore the slim shoulder revealed by the slipping terrycloth robe.

The rub down seemed to invigorate Shigure for a moment. At least, long enough for Hatori to feed him the cold syrup and tylenol, which Shigure took with little fuss and _that_ convinced Hatori of his cousin's illness more than anything else had. He wordlessly held up the kimono and Shigure shrugged into it, standing unsteadily to fold it shut.

"Now if you don't mind, I believe my television is calling."

At least, that's what Hatori assumed Shigure said. What actually came out was more like, "New iffen min, bliv tele call..."

Apparently, the cough syrup worked quite fast on the man. Looping the dog's arm over his shoulders, Hatori guided him to the bedroom before he could fall asleep completely. Pulling the covers back, he levered him onto the bed, but Shigure suddenly tightened his hold, pulling Hatori down with him. He landed at an awkward angle across the other man, unable to push himself up without hurting his patient.

"Dammit, Shi-kun!" Escaped his lips before he could recover his composure.

Shigure's fevered mouth found his for a featherlike kiss, drawing back after a moment.

"Stay."

And Hatori wished it could be as easy as all that. He wished he could crawl into bed and wrap himself around Shigure until sunrise. He wanted that so bad his chest ached.

"I can't."

Shigure's hold on him shifted, arms winding from his shoulders down to his waist, legs tangling between his. He was effectively trapped.

"Yes, you can. Akito can wait until tomorrow." Whispered softly and slowly against his cheek, drugs making the other man sluggish.

Hatori breathed deeply for a few heartbeats, eyes closing as he debated with himself. The smell of Shigure's soap and the sleep musk on his sheets, mixed with his own inoffensive cologne. So many memories wrapped in those smells. His life mapped out behind him. He had put duty first at all times since he was a child. But surely he could take one night, just one night, and make the world uncomplicated for a few hours.

"Stay," Shigure whispered again, pulling with thick fingers at his tie until he took action himself. His jacket was tossed to the floor, tie and dress shirt following. He kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants to the floor. They would wrinkle, but he'd worry about that tomorrow.

He didn't say anything as he crawled under the blankets in just his boxers. Shigure wound around him even tighter, slim bare legs brushing against his, entwining their limbs like a kudzu vine crawling up a tree.

"Love you," Shigure murmured into his neck, already drifting off.

Relaxing, Hatori couldn't say the words, but he stayed and Shigure heard them anyway.

 

 

 


End file.
